Birthmark Boy's Story
by Siriuslyfun19212
Summary: Whatever happened to the boy with the birthmark on the side of his face? Where did he really go?


**Birthmark Boy's Story**

**:Summary:**  
Whatever happened to the boy with the birthmark on the side of his face? Where did he really go?

**:Disclaimer: **  
I do not own anything Lord of the Flies or William Golding related. Don't sue me. You won't win. (I hope.)

**:Author's Note:**  
I hope you know well enough to know that this is 100 complete parody. Well, kind of. I think it would be freaking hilarious if this is what really happened, don't you?Anyway, this is only for laughs, so please don't comment me or PM me saying how much of an idiot I am for writing something like this in such a serious book. Also, the name-- I didn't know what else to name this, and I wanted to save it so I just called it the first thing that came to mind. It just stuck, I guess. And besides, I couldn't come up with anything else better that properly made sense in regards to the story's content.

As kind of a forewarning, I'll say this: I don't like LOTF. It's kind of rare that I don't like a book, but this is one of those rarities, I guess. Only the last five chapters have any real relevance. Other than that, chapters 1-7 could really be summarized well into one or two mega chapters and still provide the same sense of completion. As Edward Cullen would say, I am not impressed by antiquity. To be perfectly honest, if it weren't for a grade in my English class, I would have stopped reading after the first chapter. It was kind of boring.

**○◘○◘○◘○**

I've never liked the smell of fire, so I left quickly after the smoke began to rise. I thought it would be obvious why I left, but everyone likes to jump to conclusions. They didn't listen to me earlier anyway, so I didn't care.

I found this section of the island. I doubt anyone's been to it. It was relatively fresh, and creepers were practically eating it. I found a spot with a clear vision of the sky and waited for the smoke to die down, and before I knew it, I had fallen asleep. When I tried to find them the next morning, I found myself only deeper and deeper in the wilderness, further, I imagined, from the other boys. Dangit.

After a while, though, I found that I liked it. Being away from the others, I mean. The creepers were oddly nutritious, and I found coconuts galore. I could hear their screaming, though. That got annoying. They tried to be tribal. Idiots. They could never be tribal. If you put them on an island, they simply "must kill the pigs". It's like they don't realize there's other stuff besides pigs. They'll probably all get fat, though. I won't. I've got deliciousness on my side with these creepers.

With my vast intake of creepers, I quickly made myself a little clearing. I made myself a little line of fashion with the leaves around me, sewing them together with tiny, miniscule strips of coconut shell. I was also making a boat of coconut shells. Soon, I'll be able to get off of this island. The others can eat all the pig they want. I, on the other hand, will return to proper land and start my own fashion company. I'll call it, perhaps, Coconut Chic? No, that's silly. I'll think of something, though, don't you worry.

Then that stupid parachutist came. He was okay. He talked too much. He was a banker, and he said he was sick of always being told he was unadventurous. What does he do? He goes and buys a parachute. What happens as a result? He lands on this island. Obviously, he was better suited as a banker. He didn't like that, and he told me so.

"I don't like that."

"Well, it's true, foreign banker man."

"I think all of this solitude is getting to you."

"No, that's you. _You're_ giving me a headache." What a moron.

He gave me what he thought was a sly look. "So you _are_ here on your own, then?"

I laughed in his face. He didn't like that, either.

"Of course not, silly foreign banker man. The others are somewhere else. They don't know where I've gotten to. I don't know what they think. Maybe I'm dead." Did they think I was dead? Probably. They never considered that the smoke might be a health hazard. God forbid they ever open up a restaurant together. Rats would be everywhere. It would be quite very disgusting.

"So you let them worry over you like that?" He seemed appalled by the idea. _That_, my friends, is why he's a banker.

"Of course I do. I told them about the beastie. They were all, 'Oh, no, you're just overreacting'. Boo hoo, who's crying now? They're horrible at catching pigs, you know."

"I think that's awfully awful of you." He told me in confidence. "I think I'll have to go and tell them all that you're alive. They _must_ be worried about you!"

Snark. "No, you won't."

He looked too smug for his own good, now. "And how are you going to stop me?"

"Like this." And with that, I clunked him in the head with a coconut. He was too busy ranting to notice that I had gotten it. To make sure he was really dead, I twisted a vine around his neck and scurried off.

What a waste of human life.

Time passed on, and I could hear more tribal calls. They are so fake. I bet they've even got cute little spears, and face paint, and masks, too. They probably think they're barbaric. They aren't.

Eventually, I could sense smoke again. I hate smoke.

I went to investigate. What did I find? Nearly the whole friggen island was on fire! Did they have a death wish?

"Double-you Tee Eff, mate?" I asked no one in particular.

I could see the chief—what was his name? I think it was Ralph—running around. He probably thought he was mysterious. He wasn't.

"Well, screw this," I said to no one in particular again.

I headed back to my little campsite and grabbed my boat of coconuts.

On my way back to land, I passed a Navy ship.

Now they come? They have absolutely no sense of good-timing.

"Hasta la vista, babeh."


End file.
